Getting ready for my next round of in vitro fertilization, I decided to try a more alternative approach. Why not? The traditional medical one kept telling me I was old and my chances of having a baby were growing slimmer. I had done so much acupuncture I was beginning to feel like a “True Blood” vampire victim. I had been to a kabbalist rabbi years ago for a blessing to find a husband – which I did – but I wasn’t too keen on my own religion right now, especially since I had gone to the mikvah ritual bath right before the I.V.F. cycle I conceived and had a miscarriage.

My husband, Solomon, a staunch secularist, didn’t give credence to any of it: not the rabbi, the mikvah or the healers, whom he thinks do not have any more powers than the rest of us. But my belief system is more like that title of the Woody Allen movie “Whatever Works.”

So I had consulted a healer (long distance, as healers don’t need to actually meet in person) to read my energy to see if any of my thoughts or beliefs were blocking me from having children.

“You feel betrayed by a woman. Your mother?” she guessed. My mother, a beautiful, talented and brilliant artist, was very invested in making sure her four children were independent from a young age. She loves to tell the story of how I used to make my own sandwiches when I was 3. Three!

“Motherhood should feel warm and nurturing, but your experience of motherhood is cold,” the healer said. “Your uterus is taking on that cold energy, from your past and from your body failing you again.”

“But my body has betrayed me,” I wanted to tell her, recalling last year’s miscarriage at nine weeks of a healthy fetus with no genetic defects. I stayed silent, however, because unlike therapists, healers don’t want dialogue.

“This is not about blame or regret,” the healer said. “We got to move that fear to faith.” She explained that after we hung up, she would clear the negative energy from my system, but then I would have to meditate on warm feelings of motherhood.

Maybe it was like marriage: since my parents had a bad one, I had absorbed a negative impression of it. It took me many years of studying loving couples around me to reframe it, to understand how beautiful partnership could be. Maybe I had to find positive examples about motherhood too.

But how? How could I feel warmly maternal if I wasn’t a mother? I asked some friends to share the positive aspects of motherhood, to give me something in writing to work from.

•Why do you love being a mother?
•What does having children mean to you?
•What have you learned from your children?
•What have you given to your children?
•What have your children given to you?
•Why do you think I will enjoy having children/being a mother?

They wrote back:

“I love being a mom so fiercely. I look at my kids and think what the hay?! These are the most hilarious, beautiful, generous souls and when they are forming new thoughts or words on their tongue I just want to shout YES!!!”

“I think you truly will be an incredible mom. You speak to kids – mine at least – so honestly and frankly. There is no showy-show or baby talk, and they feel so empowered and honored around you.”

“Focusing on a little baby can be like a meditation. If you let yourself, you can get absorbed in something that is purely positive. I also felt ‘in love,’ like all I wanted to do was to be with that baby, and nothing else mattered, and the fabulous thing was that I got to do it.”

“Being a mother has brought more love into my life than anything else I’ve ever experienced. When I feel open to it and the love flows, it’s blissful and beautiful.”

“My children have given me so much love … and the ability to see things in grays. My children have given me purpose on the highest level, not in a dependent way, where I define myself because of them, rather, I was entrusted with these souls and I take this job – nurturing them, listening to them, guiding them, setting boundaries with them, being kind in my interactions with them, taking a second to breathe before responding from the hip, taking their feelings into account even when they have [angered] me – very seriously.”

“Amy, you’ll enjoy being a mother because you are so full of love, and so full of kindness, and so willing to give of yourself. You’ll enjoy this role because you’ll be really good at it. You’ll be a thinking parent and you’ll enjoy it because you will be so loved by your child.”

Here’s my question for all the parents out there: Why do you love being a mother or father?

Amy Klein’s Fertility Diary is the first in a series of weekly diaries documenting the ever-changing experience of having and raising children. Her tenure, and her weekly essays, will end in February (although she will continue to update Motherlode on her progress).

About

We're all living the family dynamic, as parents, as children, as siblings, uncles and aunts. At Motherlode, lead writer and editor KJ Dell’Antonia invites contributors and commenters to explore how our families affect our lives, and how the news affects our families—and all families. Join us to talk about education, child care, mealtime, sports, technology, the work-family balance and much more